Chuck vs The Pacific
by songandsilence
Summary: “Biological weapons released over LA. Okay, well, we can stop that, right?” A new adventure that turns out to be more than expected...Chuck/Sarah
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is my first Chuck fic, so be kind and give me pointers!!

**Chuck vs. The Pacific**

Chuck Bartowski was bored as hell. It was a slow day, a Wednesday, and nothing at all interesting had happened all day. Not that this job was particularly interesting on the best of days, and this day was definitely not one of the best. He was hunched over at the Nerd Herd station, head pillowed on his crossed arms and his eyes closed.

"Having a nice nap?"

His head snapped up, so suddenly that for a moment his vision was black. As he blinked at it began to clear, he saw Sarah smiling up at him amusedly, her eyebrows raised. He couldn't help but smile back a little.

"Hey," he said a little dumbly. There was something about Sarah in her Orange Orange uniform that just made him start to daydream. Something about cartwheels and wind blowing. But that wasn't the point right now.

She leaned against the counter casually, her eyes glittering. "Don't want you losing this job, now do we?"

Chuck sighed, leaning on his elbows again. He caught a whiff of the smell of her shampoo as he inhaled. "We wouldn't want that." His words were sardonic and he felt Sarah's eyes on him.

"It won't be like this forever, you know," she replied softly. "They're already working on a new version of the Intersect. Soon it'll be out of your head and you won't need to live like this anymore." Glancing up after hearing something almost sad in her words, Chuck found himself staring at her profile. She wouldn't look at him. He looked at her for a moment longer before faux-cheerfully filling in the gap.

"So, what's up for today? Any national security threats? Bombs? How about terrorists that just want some Coldstone? I mean, they're out of their minds _not _to want it – "

"Chuck," Sarah interrupted, laughing a little. "Just come with me, alright?" There was still a little smile on her lips as she walked away. Chuck followed without hesitation.

When he caught up to her, he asked, "But really, what's up for today? If there's no big emergency, maybe you and I could – wait, why are we in the Orange Orange?"

"Temp headquarters for the moment, and there is a big emergency, Chuck. Just hold on a sec." She tapped the code in quickly to a key pad next to the door and walked into the freezer, where Casey was sitting at a small table with a few laptops and about six guns surrounding him. "Casey? Any updates?"

"The freezer? This is what the CIA springs for?" Chuck wrapped his arms around himself as Sarah shot him a look.

The brawny NSA agent didn't look up from polishing his guns. "Got us two practically priceless invites to some party he's throwing tonight on his yacht. The yacht happens to also be where he is storing the biological weapons."

Chuck halted immediately. "Whoa, wait, biological weapons?"

"That are going to be released over LA," said Casey lightly. Chuck frowned. Sometimes – okay, most of the time – he thought Casey acted so blithely just to rile up Chuck. And it worked.

"Biological weapons released over LA. Okay, well, we can stop that, right?"

"Sure," said Casey in a mockingly cheerful tone. "Because it's that easy, super spy. Just waltz into the man's party, grab the means for biological warfare and then waltz out."

"You're almost right, Agent Casey," said Beckman from the screen of a laptop. All three of them turned to face her. "Chuck and Sarah, you'll be going to the party as guests. Sarah for protection, and Chuck to see if he flashes on anything. Casey, you'll be on long range back up duty on a small motorboat nearby. Far enough away to remain unseen but close enough to help if need be."

"Okay," said Chuck cheerfully. "Just another day at the office!"

Sarah ignored him. "And if we find the biological weapons? What do we do with them?"

"Put them in a safe container and bring them back to the Castle. I'll have analysts meet you there to take the weapons to be tested," said Beckman. "Are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Casey replied. The screen went dark. "Alright. The party's at 8. Bartowski. You need a better suit."

"I'd better go get ready," said Sarah before leaving the room. The boys stared after her.

"What is it with women taking hours to get ready for something?" said Casey with honest confusion in his voice.

"I have no idea," replied Chuck bemusedly.

--

"Have I told you that you look really nice tonight?"

"You have, Chuck. Thank you." Even though she was admonishing him, her voice was pleased.

"Really, _really_ nice."

"Chuck," she said, now smiling more fully. She did look really nice, though the word barely covered it. Her dress was dark blue and sleeveless, dipping low in the front and fluttering around her legs, ending just above her knees. Her hair was down and in long waves down her back and he honestly couldn't stop staring. "Work, remember?"

"Ah, yes. It's a tough job, this one." He looked around the large open room on the yacht, filled with glamorously dressed people drinking champagne out of narrow glass flutes. He adjusted his tie a little nervously, but Sarah put a hand on his arm and smiled up at him.

"It's going to be fine, Chuck. We'll just sneak off for some 'alone time' and snoop around a little." He suddenly found it hard to swallow.

"Oh, ah, alone time? Isn't that – I mean –"

"_Cover_ alone time," she replied a little briskly, looking away. Chuck thought her cheeks looked a little rosier than they had before. "There, there he is. Valentine, that's our man."

He followed her gaze and found a man walking the edge of the party, obviously in the role of the host. He stopped to speak with people, shook their hands and smiled. He was…tall, dark and absurdly handsome and Chuck hated him at first sight. Then his brain switched into gear and his vision was awash with pictures of clouds of gas blowing across a desert, a bunch of files with Valentine's picture on them and a few pictures of cherubs holding arrows. He blinked out of it quickly.

"Yeah, Valentine is planning on selling the weapons to the highest bidder here in LA. The plan isn't to wipe out LA, but to sell them here and then transport them to Washington D.C. They're planning on releasing them over the capital." He and Sarah shared a slightly panicked look. Well, definitely more panicked on Chuck's end.

"What do we do now?" Asked Chuck.

"Watch Valentine for a bit. See how he acts with different people," said Casey through their ear pieces. "Have you flashed on anyone on the boat?"

"No, not yet," Chuck replied. "Well, other than Valentine."

"Alright. You and Walker go make out in one of the rooms."

"Whoa, hold on Casey, I don't think we – "

"He meant as our cover, Chuck. We need access to the rest of the boat and the only way we're going to get it is if we act like a drunk couple who is a little too busy to be paying attention to their surroundings." There was a shift in Sarah's face as she stepped closer to him and smiled in a rather alarmingly seductive manner. "Come on, Chuck, let's go."

"Uh, I um – "

She stood on her toes and balanced herself with a hand on his chest as she whispered in his ear. He got another great whiff of whatever was in her hair and his eyes closed involuntarily. "Follow me." Her voice was low and her breath warm on his neck and of course he couldn't deny her anything.

She took his hand and led him out of the room. When they reached a hallway a little off to the side with just some servers in it, Sarah giggled loudly – she _giggled_ – and turned to wrap her arms around his neck. Again, she whispered in his ear, but he could hear the smile she had put on her face in her voice. "Just play along for a bit, Chuck." Her fingers tangled with his hair and she slowly made her way towards his mouth. Still a little hesitant, Chuck just stayed still, though his arms automatically went to wrap around her waits. The back of her dress dipped lower than the front, and his fingers encountered warm skin. He swallowed.

Lightly, she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth. They were making their way down the hall, Sarah stumbling in a falsely drunken way and Chuck stumbling simple to keep up with her.

"Uh, Sarah?"

"Shhh," she whispered against his lips, kissing him. In an instant, Chuck was responding, opening his mouth to hers and pulling her closer with his arms. She made a little noise of surprise but didn't pull away. He thought he felt her shiver, and she was holding his head tightly, keeping it near hers. Chuck's heart soared.

They stumbled back towards a doorway and fell through it, breaking apart in the process. Sarah smoothed back her hair and took a few deep breaths. "You see anything?"

"Uh," Chuck began, barely able to make himself look around the room. "No, I don't…" Then the world blurred and there were images of rainbows and chemistry labs and cats hissing across his vision. When he came back to the regular world, Sarah was looking at him expectantly, her lipstick smudged. "Yeah, yeah. That box, there." He pointed to an ornate wooden box that had Chinese patterns across the top.

There was a little lock but Sarah snapped it easily with the pliers she had hidden…somewhere on her. Chuck didn't want to dwell on that. Then she slowly opened the box…

…and that's when the ticking started.

"Why can't the terrorists ever just want Coldstone?!" Chuck exclaimed, backing up very quickly. Sarah was already shouting something into her little microphone, most likely to Casey, but Chuck was thinking about something else. "The people. Sarah, the people on this boat probably aren't connected to this whole thing. They can't die." She looked at him but didn't say anything. "No, we are not letting them die!"

"We don't have time! The bomb says five minutes. That's hardly enough. I have to get you out of here," she said harshly, grabbing his arm and dragging him from the room. Instead of going back to the main room, they ducked into the kitchen, ignoring the angry yelling from the staff. "We have to get off this boat. Right now." She was about to move towards a window when Chuck yanked his arm from hers.

"No! Just give me a second." He looked around the kitchen before finding something that was more than a little inspiring. Chuck grabbed the crème brulee torch and turned it on. With a little yelp of surprise at the flame, he held it up towards the smoke detector, close enough to burn it. Within a few seconds the alarm was starting to turn black, smoking a little, and it began wailing. Chuck ran back to Sarah, who looked mildly impressed. "Okay, let's go now."

She ripped off her heeled shoes and grabbed his hand, running towards the back of the boat. Together, they leaped up and over the railing, plunging down into the Pacific Ocean.

Water closed over his head and Chuck had the weirdest sensation of being completely alone before Sarah grabbed his shoulder and practically hauled him to the surface.

"Swim. Dock. Now," she said breathlessly.

"Casey?" He said, starting to swim and almost swallowing a lot of salt water.

"I told him to stay away from the boat," was her clipped reply before they were both too busy swimming as fast as possible away from the boat. They made it into the shadow of a dock, both going to one pillar and clinging to it desperately while they caught their breath.

"We almost just died!" Chuck whisper-shouted, eyes wide. "Sarah, we were almost dead a second ago!"

Her laugh blew her breath in his face as they clung underneath the pier. "That's kind of a daily occurrence for me." He laughed with her, very quietly, but after a moment the amusement wore off. Chuck suddenly became incredibly aware of their bodies pressed together in the cool water as they both huddled around the same pillar. Her dress was floating around her legs and he could feel it brush up against him underneath the black surface of the water. She seemed to notice something similar, because the smile swept off of her face very quickly and she went completely still. Her make up had run a little down one cheek, her hair was sticking to her face and neck, she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead and Chuck had never seem anything more beautiful.

He swept the arm not holding onto the pier through the water, propelling himself toward her just another inch. He saw her throat move as she swallowed and her eyes didn't leave his. With his free hand, he wiped some of her dripping hair back from her face. "Sarah."

Slowly, very slowly, he tilted his head down and gently pressed his lips to hers. Her body was almost completely still, as if she was afraid to move, and her lips were cool and wet and smooth. He pulled back a tiny bit from that small kiss, almost just a touching of their lips, and exhaled lightly with his eyes still closed. When he did open them, she was looking up at him with the strangest look in her eyes, her mouth slightly open. Then she had pushed herself forward in the water and their lips crashed together.

Chuck thought, for one wild moment, that he was dreaming. It was near midnight, pitch black but for some lights on the dock, and they were in a world with just the two of them, floating and weightless. And he was kissing Sarah. Sarah was kissing him. A little of both, and it was incredible. She was swirling and cool against him and if her hand hadn't been tightly clutching his shirt he would have been very willing to believe this was a dream. But her grip was strong and demanding, her mouth opening against his and suddenly she wasn't cool anymore, but as fiery as he knew she could be.

A huge boom and flash of brilliant light made them jerk apart, clutching the pillar in shock. Valentine's yacht exploded in a flash of orange and yellow light, debris flying every direction. The boom echoed off of the metal hulls of all the ships in port, making it sound much louder than it actually was – though it was plenty loud.

As the noise quieted again, Chuck swallowed. "I forgot about the exploding boat thing." Sarah laughed a little breathlessly and leaned her head on his shoulder, obviously relieved. He let his arm swim around her as they floated, watching the fire cast the dark water red.

"Walker? Bartowski?" a voice hissed above them, and Chuck and Sarah immediately pushed apart. Chuck instantly regretted the separation. "You down there?"

"Yeah, Casey, we're here!" Sarah hissed back up. "Come on, Chuck," she said brusquely, barely looking at him. Swimming down the dock towards a ladder, she hauled herself up it, water cascading off of her nice cocktail dress…that was now clinging to every inch of her. Chuck decided to stay in the cold water for a moment longer.

"Bartowski, we don't have all day," Casey said grouchily. Chuck sighed and pulled himself up the ladder in time to see Sarah wiping herself off a little with a towel. Casey threw one at him as well. "Dry off. We have to go report that it was a fake. Now." The NSA agent jumped into the driver's seat of the black SUV.

Chuck and Sarah walked a little slower, cold and cramped from spending so much time in the Pacific Ocean. Chuck swallowed and gathered his nerve. "Hey, Sarah? About – "

"Not now, Chuck," she said, turning and looking at him with something like regret in her eyes. "We have to report that the weapons weren't on the boat, that it was a fake and that the yacht's destroyed." For a moment she opened her mouth and it looked like she was going to continue, but then she closed her mouth and just climbed into the SUV. Wearily, Chuck followed her. As usual.

"Then what? We still don't have the weapons, but Valentine's dead."

Casey grunted. "Unfortunately, he's still alive. He hopped off the boat the instant the fire alarm went off, along with all the guests." He glanced at Chuck in the rear view mirror. "Good thinking, Bartowski. With the fire alarm, I mean."

"Thanks," Chuck replied, looking at the back of Casey's head as the agent just glared at the road ahead of them.

"We have to find Valentine," Sarah said quietly. When Chuck looked at her, she was staring out the window and into the brightly lit, LA night, a deeply thoughtful look on her face.

"What do we do now?" he asked her, his voice quiet. She looked over at him, picking up the double meaning in his words. Then she sighed and looked back out the window.

"I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Sorry for the delay! My Microsoft Word mysteriously decided to stop working about a month ago…but then it suddenly decided to start working again, so here I am!

IMPORTANT: Inspiration for one scene in here came from an episode of 'The West Wing', and some of the dialogue is fairly similar to what actually happens in the episode ('These Crackpots and These Women'). I mean NO disrespect to Aaron Sorkin (because he is my God) and I'm not making _any_ money off of this so don't sue me! It just fit really well. *hides*

**CHAPTER TWO**

Sarah stared at the screen in front of her, completely listless and barely watching the surveillance tape as it played itself out in front of her. People moved across the three screens they had set up. One of them showed the outside of Valentine's large LA mansion; one was the outside of his busy office building; and the third was a map, showing the location of his private car – to which Casey had attached a GPS.

When would the CIA and NSA finish the new headquarters? Working out of the freezer of the Orange Orange was risky and honestly not that comfortable.

_Snap out of it_, she thought to herself, running her hands over her face and then through her hair. This was just ridiculous. She was one of the best agents the CIA had, and here she was, unable to just watch a surveillance video. To keep her mind going, she reviewed everything they knew about Valentine in her head. He was the son of Joseph Valentine, and the heir to the Valentine shipping fortune. He ran a small number of shipping routes for his father, but on the side he let smugglers use his ships – giving them his reputation against pesky things such as Customs and Immigration – as long as they paid handsomely. The billionaire's son didn't care what he allowed shipped in or out, just that he got paid at the end of the day and the more illegal the cargo, the higher the shipping fee. And, four days ago, the record of payment for an incoming ship was sky high, leading Sarah and Casey to believe that it had held the bio weapons.

Checking her watch, she saw she had ten minutes left on her lunch break with which to watch the videos. All right. She could do that.

But, as she started watching the videos again, she felt some internal part of her body begin to feel like it was swaying back and forth in the ocean. Her eyes glazed over and suddenly she was back under the dark dock, pressed up against Chuck, weirdly hot and cold at the same time.

A beeping brought her out of it, and Sarah sat up straighter. The GPS on Valentine's car was moving, pulling out of his parking spot at work and moving…west. Towards the docks. Watching him for a moment longer, just to make sure he really was going towards the docks, she then texted Casey. "Valentine going to docks. Lunch break almost over. Your turn?"

As she waited for a reply, she kept her eye on the three screens, just in case. As Valentine's car got closer to the docks, three big black Suburbans pulled up outside the office building – headquarters of Valentine Shipping – and seven men jumped out. One man in the middle of the other six was holding a box. Well, a small armored case might be more accurate.

Sarah sat up straighter and checked the time. 12:54 PM. She wrote that down on a CIA sticky note before her phone buzzed. Casey was on his way. She kept her eyes trained on screen two, watching the men march into the office building. Through the doors she could just make out that they were headed to an elevator…the service elevator that went down to the basement.

"Anything fun going on?" Asked Casey sarcastically as he walked through the door.

Sarah whirled to face him. "I think I know where the bio weapons are."

--

As Chuck walked out of the Buy More and out to the Nerdmobile, he was completely zoned out, just as he had been all day. All he could think about was Sarah. Sarah in her beautiful blue dress, Sarah "drunkenly" kissing him in the hallway, Sarah wet and bruised under the dock…she really just made it impossible for him to think.

"Chuck!"

Halting in the middle of opening the door to the little car, Chuck straightened and looked over the parking lot. Casey and Sarah were jogging over to him from the Orange Orange.

"What's up?" he asked, trying to inconspicuously avoid Sarah's eyes.

"We know where the bio weapons are being held. Walker found them earlier today, during her lunch break," Casey said, surveying the parking lot with his sharp eyes, assumedly checking for any sign of danger. "The CIA and NSA confirmed it about an hour ago – there are fingerprints of bio weapons in the office building."

"Fingerprints?" said Chuck. "And, wait, an office building? Like, one that is surrounded by people?"

"Yeah, Valentine was pretty smart about that." Sarah put her hands on her hips and looked at Chuck, but her face was that completely professional mask that Chuck was beginning to hate. "We are presuming that the weapons are being held in an extremely secure location in the basement, but it will be very difficult to steal them from that location – what with the security and the added risk of setting them off in an area full of civilians."

"So…what are we going to do?" Two could play at the only-professional game.

"Break in. Tonight." Casey's fingers were twitching a little, like they did when he was particularly hankering for a gun.

"Wait, hold up. Weren't you just talking about the risk of civilian lives? Not to mention the risk of setting the weapons off."

"We don't have a choice, Chuck," said Sarah emphatically. "We have to get those weapons before they're sent to Washington DC. We're breaking in tonight."

He held up his hands. "All right. Fine. But after dinner, because Awesome and Ellie are having a wedding planning dinner and your presence is required." He hadn't quite meant for it to come out like that – _harsh_ – but he was feeling more than a little annoyed at her, so it couldn't be helped.

Something flickered across Sarah's face that he didn't quite catch before she nodded and looked down. "Okay. 6 o'clock?"

"Yeah."

Casey looked back and forth between them and Chuck could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Before he could get very far into that thought process, Chuck cut him off. "We'll meet in the court yard after dinner."

"Fine." Sarah sent him an annoyed look before stalking off to her car. Chuck turned and got into the Nerd Herder, shutting the door a little more forcefully than he meant. Casey stayed where he was for a moment, confused, before getting in the car with Chuck.

"What the hell was that?" he asked. "It would appear that you and Walker have not figured yourselves out yet, am I correct?" Chuck gritted his teeth at Casey's sarcastic tone.

"You would certainly be correct," he replied tightly.

--

"Thanks so much for coming, Sarah!" said Ellie with a huge smile on her face. "I know it's probably the last thing you want to be doing right now, but I'm in desperate need of back up. The boys are completely unwilling to just sit down and get things _done_. They think if they avoid it long enough, the planning will just happen on its own." The two women laughed a little, though Sarah's was mildly forced.

"It's no problem, Ellie. You've been one of my best friends since moving here and I'm totally willing to help out with whatever you need." _As long as it doesn't involve your brother_. Sarah felt guilty the moment the thought raced through her mind. It wasn't Chuck's fault that she didn't know where she stood. It wasn't his fault that she found herself wanting a normal life, away from the CIA, with him. She dropped her purse on the couch and followed Ellie to the table. "So, what's on the schedule tonight?"

Ellie sent her a grateful smile. "I really just need some help ironing out details. I mean, the wedding is in three months, but you would not believe the loose ends I have to tie up before then!" They sat at the table with magazines and albums and planners spread out in front of them, scraps of fabric and flowers spilling over the paper. As Sarah looked over the chaotic jumble of plans, Ellie winced. "You see why I need help?"

Sarah laughed. "Well, I'm your girl." Ellie grinned and started talking about color schemes while Sarah quietly studied her. Ellie was someone Sarah never would have expected herself to be friends with. She didn't usually fall in with the nice girls who smiled a lot and had nice, normal lives. But, then again, Chuck had changed a lot of things about her.

"Hey, babe," said Devon a little while later as he slid into the chair next to Ellie, kissing her cheek. Sarah watched them with a little longing in her eyes and almost missed Chuck sitting down next to her. Her body tensed up and she sent him a tight smile. He barely smiled back. "Making any headway?"

"Yes, actually. Now that I have actual help." She raised her eyebrow reproachfully at Devon, who had the good grace to look mildly ashamed. "Sarah and I were just getting to the actual ceremony. Chuck, I think you and Sarah should walk down the aisle togeth – "

"No!" said Chuck loudly, cutting off his sister. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, and Sarah tried not to let her hurt show on her face. He couldn't even bear to be near her, just to walk down a church aisle with her anymore? For a split second, something different flashed through her mind. She was still walking down a church aisle, but Chuck was the one standing at the end, near the altar. She instantly shoved that out of her mind, frustration and embarrassment making her clench her teeth. Somehow she had a feeling that happy endings like that just weren't in her future.

"Chuck?" said Ellie, confusion on her face.

"No, I mean – sorry, that came out wrong. But Ellie, I'm going to walk _you_ down the aisle." There was a slight pause as everyone around the table took that in. Sarah's embarrassment fled as she looked over at Chuck. Warmth flooded her body and a little smile worked its way onto her face. He never ceased to surprise her. "Dad's not here and I honestly doubt he'll come back. I love you, Ellie, and I don't want you to walk down the aisle by yourself. I'm going to walk you down the aisle." The conviction in his voice obviously had an affect on Ellie, who was tearing up a little.

"I – thanks, Chuck. That will be perfect." Devon nodded at Chuck and tangled his fingers in Ellie's hair, stroking the back of her neck. Sarah laced her fingers together and stared down at them, feeling a little like she was in the middle of some private family moment. She felt something warm on her arm, and looked up to see Chuck, a small smile on his face and some form of reconciliation in his eyes. She swallowed and smiled back.

--

"Okay, Chuck, you're seriously going to have to be quieter than that," Sarah hissed, mild annoyance in her voice. They were crawling through the air vents of the office building at around midnight, and Chuck was proving a little too lanky to squeeze through the tighter turns. How did Casey do this? The man was practically solid muscle, and yet he was having no trouble crawling through the metal vents.

"Sorry," he hissed back, trying to figure out how to do this more naturally. He followed Sarah's dark form through the maze of twists and turns, dodging her feet once or twice when she almost kicked him.

"Here we are," whispered Casey. Chuck heard a soft whirring and a dull _thunk_ before Casey disappeared down and out of the vent, Sarah quickly following him. Chuck scrambled out much less gracefully, almost falling on Sarah in the process. She gave him an annoyed look as she helped him to his feet. "It should be right down this hallway, according to NSA intel."

"And CIA intel," said Sarah defensively. Casey rolled his eyes a little.

"All right. Now that we have that out of the way, can we grab these bio weapons meant to wipe out the capitol and get out of here?" Chuck hissed urgently, looking over his shoulder. Would these missions ever get easier?

They worked their way in and out of shadows down the hallway, Casey in front and Sarah in the rear, protecting Chuck.

"Flash on anything?" Sarah whispered, her shoulder almost touching his back. He could see from the set of her shoulders and the intensity of her eyes that she was in full-on protective mode.

"No, not yet."

"Here," whispered Casey. The door looked inconspicuous, like any other basement door leading to a storage locker or maintenance room. Casey turned the doorknob – it was unlocked. The NSA agent traded a strange look with Sarah, but then crept into the room anyway, guns out and Chuck's heart pounding like a galloping horse.

The room was small and seemingly not suspicious in any way. There were a few shelves and a desk in one corner, pipes hanging from the ceiling and no decorations of any kind. The floor was covered with a bunch of cardboard boxes, taped and labeled. On the shelves were a few books, covered in dust, and a small box.

"That's it," whispered Sarah. "That box. That's it."

"This is way too easy," hissed Casey, looking around the room as Sarah approached the box.

At that moment, two things happened simultaneously. An alarm went off somewhere in the building, and Chuck flashed on a small maroon notebook lying on the desk.

Pictures of a cherub, trains coming and going from a station, the pages of a calendar, a chemistry lab full of vials and a bundle of red roses flashed before his eyes as Chuck's eyelids flickered.

"Chuck! We have to go!" Casey was out the door and in the hallway, gun up and ready. Sarah grabbed his arm and hauled him out the door, her gun in her other hand. "Casey?"

The agent answered her unasked question. "Must have triggered a silent alarm. I _knew_ that was too easy." They ran down the hallway, but at an intersection of hallways they were stopped by another noise. It echoed down the cement corridor, bouncing around so that they had no idea from which hallway it came.

"Dogs?" Said Chuck, his voice rising in pitch. Casey swore profusely and whirled around, facing each one of the corridors. "Please tell me you have an escape plan." Casey and Sarah exchanged a look that Chuck could easily read. "Oh, come on. The CIA and the NSA thought of everything _except_ _dogs_?!"

They didn't answer him, and in that instant, three huge pit bulls rounded one of the corners far down the hallway, followed by five armed guards. Sarah swore this time, and Chuck only had a moment to be surprised before she was dragging him down another corridor. "Here, here, through here!" Yelled Casey, ducking into another small room. There was a window to one side, near the ceiling. Through it, Chuck could see the ground and the alley beyond. Instantly, Casey was kneeling down and giving Sarah a boost up to the window, which she broke with the butt of her gun. She scrambled through and then turned to help Chuck and Casey up. Chuck wasn't really sure, again, how he and Casey had fit through the tiny window, but it would seem that adrenaline made just about anything possible.

As they ran down the deserted alley way, Chuck barely kept up with the two agents. "I am _so_ telling the CIA and NSA that they need to train their agents for dogs. Did you think that modern technology is the only way people protect things these days?!"

"Not now, Bartowski," Casey said tensely.

"Also, I flashed on something in there." He slowed as he said that, the importance of what he said finally settling in his mind. "Oh my God."

"What? What is it?" Sarah said, pulling him behind a dumpster. Casey followed, his gun still drawn. "Chuck, what did you see?" She was panting, her eyes were over-bright from the adrenaline and Chuck knew that the forearms of her shirt were soaked with blood from crawling through broken glass and here she was, more worried about him. He almost smiled.

"There was a notebook in the room," he began, "but it wasn't just a notebook. Someone had written a few notes in there, which I am assuming were not for public consumption." Swallowing, he made himself continue. "The box that we didn't get, the one with the bio weapons…well, they aren't _exactly_ biological weapons. They're vials of smallpox."

"The disease?" said Casey, coming to join them.

"Yeah, the disease." Chuck sent him a strange look. "What else could I possibly mean?"

"The smallpox, Chuck," said Sarah urgently, making him look at her again. "It's going to Washington DC? To be released at the White House?"

"It's going to Washington DC, but not to the White House." He had to swallow again before he could continue. "Valentine is selling them to a Fulcrum agent named Darkwind, who is planning to release the smallpox in Union Station."

"Union Station?" Casey said in disbelief. "Twenty million people go through Union Station every year. Almost fifty-five thousand people every day."

"How many people in the US are vaccinated for smallpox now?" Asked Sarah, a slightly frantic look creeping on to her face.

"I don't know," replied Casey tightly, "but the last outbreak was in 1988, so I'm guessing not that many. I know that the public stopped being vaccinated in 1972. For a while, the state kept the military vaccinated, but that stopped in 1990." He gritted his teeth rather violently. "The US defense budget never covers the right things."

Sarah pushed her hair back and took a deep breath. "Okay. We have to get back to headquarters and report. The Director and the General have to know this right away." They started to walk back out into the alley

"Wait, what about the – the box! We have to go back and get it right now!" Chuck stopped in the middle of the deserted alley. "If that gets out, it could infect half of LA! This could be the beginning of World War III, and you're just going to walk away from possibly our only chance to stop that from happening?"

"It isn't going to be World War III, Chuck," said Casey. "No one in their right mind would start a war with a disease and not weaponry."

"Okay, just because you're a gun-loving maniac doesn't mean that there aren't other forms of deadly weaponry," snapped Chuck. "There are seven doses of the vaccine in the United States. _Seven_. If this gets out in LA, it'll spread across the country, across the _world_, and all it takes is a little vial being dropped in a train station or LAX or even some street corner in Burbank. Someone just drops a vial and pretty soon everyone in the US is infected with only seven doses of the vaccine available. How's that for deadly."

For a moment, neither Casey nor Sarah said anything. Sarah opened her mouth, but then closed it again. Finally, Casey made an aggravated noise and lowered his gun.

"We can't get it now, anyway. Once we triggered the alarm and they knew someone broke into the facility, they will have moved it. They'll be moving it right now."

"Where?" asked Chuck urgently. "Where do you think they'll move it?"

"If I were Valentine, I'd want to keep it as close to me as possible after something like this," said Casey. "He'll probably have it moved to his house."

"His _house_?" asked Chuck with eyebrows so high they almost disappeared into his hairline. "You think this guy wants smallpox in his _house_?"

"Valentine stands to make an absurd amount of money for this deal," said Sarah. "Darkwind is paying him enough money to feed a small country for a year, all to help bring down the United States. He'll want to make sure this deal goes through, and he has a personal army of security guards at his mansion that will keep it safe."

"How in hell are we going to get in to the Valentine mansion?" asked Casey.

Chuck raised his hand tentatively. "I might have an idea."

"What is it?"

"Well, there was another thing written in the notebook." He paused. "Tomorrow is Valentine's birthday."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews!! I really appreciate it. :D Just wanted to say two things: One, the next chapter (chapter 4) will be the last chapter, because I always meant for this to be a 4-parter. However, it will be loooong. Two, I'm not really happy with this chapter, so be kind! I just had to get it out so I can start on Part 4. Again, thank you!!

**CHAPTER THREE**

"I am getting seriously sick of doing this," said Chuck as he walked up the wide steps toward the Valentine mansion. He straightened his bowtie with one hand, feeling conspicuous and awkward in his tux.

"What, getting to wear incredibly fancy clothes and crash incredibly fancy parties?" Sarah teased as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, smiling up at him. He managed a tight smile in return, something twisting in the pit of his belly. She looked gorgeous, as usual, in her floor length dark purple gown, which was high in front and practically nonexistent in the back. As he looked down at her smiling face, Chuck was torn between the ever-present desire to kiss her and the ever-present worry that he knew so little about her. He didn't even really know who she was.

"It'll be fine, Chuck. We just have to get access behind the scenes and do some more snooping." The look she shot him was almost playful. Chuck could see she was feeling good tonight, and it made him feel just a little bit worse for some reason. She actually _enjoyed_ this lie sometimes, but it was wearing him down bit by bit.

"Right. Snooping for smallpox. Totally normal." She squeezed his arm as they walked through the doors. Chuck put on his self-confident Super Spy smile. "Charles Charmichael and Sarah Walker." The server checked the guest list, nodded, and welcomed them in to the house. Chuck swallowed and tried to act like he normally went to parties that cost millions, in mansions that cost even more.

Elegant couples swirled around the ballroom, flitting from group to group and table to table. There were flutes of champagne and delicate little plates of food on each table; the guests didn't touch the food but went straight for the champagne. Appearances, you know.

"So, how are we going to get out of this room?" Chuck asked. The ballroom was surrounded by huge glass windows, and one wide staircase on each of the four walls, each leading to the second floor. People mingled on the balcony, looking down at the expensively dressed people below.

"We're going to use the same tactic we used at Valentine's last part," replied Sarah, her voice all business. "It worked quite efficiently."

"The 'drunken couple making out and stumbling around the house' tactic?" Chuck's voice was more than a little panicked. He wiped suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

Sarah looked up at him, her eyes innocently confused. "Why? It'll be perfectly fine, I promise. I gave you my word that I'd protect you," she said seriously, her eyes sweeping the room, presumably looking for security cameras and guards.

"That's not exactly what I'm worried about," Chuck muttered, but Sarah appeared not to hear him. Her hand tightened on his arm.

"There's the birthday boy," she whispered in a sing-song voice. Chuck looked down at her with mild astonishment. She was never this…happy was the wrong word because she _was_ happy, though it was rare. She was never this _playful_.

Just then, music started up – there was a string quartet in one corner of the huge ballroom playing a Beethoven concerto. Sarah turned to face him, a smile on her lips.

"Want to dance?"

Chuck almost fell over. What was going on with this day? "Are you…feeling okay? This is a mission, remember?"

She shrugged in a way that made her see much younger than…however old she was. "I know. I just want to forget about smallpox and the end of the world for a few minutes." How could he begrudge her that? How could he begrudge her _anything_? Chuck swallowed and followed her onto the dance floor, where everyone who was dancing there looked like they had had professional training.

Then Sarah was in his arms, elegantly swaying them back and forth – Chuck let her lead, really – as elegantly as she could with Chuck's awkward, 6 foot plus frame. While he was trying not to step on her, he let himself notice how fluidly her body moved. It was very obvious that she loved to dance, and that she was good at it. Very good at it.

She rested her head lightly on his shoulder with a sigh. "I love dancing," he heard her say quietly, her voice wistful. He didn't say anything, thinking instead of the night they had first gone out, before he had known she was CIA, before he had known what was going on inside his head. He remembered the look in her eyes when they had been dancing, the way her body had moved, her free smile.

But it hadn't been a free smile. She had been on a mission then, he just hadn't known it. Something twisted in his gut. That was the trouble with being pretty much head over heels for a secret agent: you could never quite tell when something was an act or not.

The smell of Sarah's hair right below his nose felt real. The way her hand was entwined in his felt real, same with the way she was peacefully resting her head on his shoulder. But Chuck couldn't enjoy it. He didn't _know_ this woman in his arms, and every time he felt himself dreaming about some bright, shiny future with her, the perfect image got seriously tarnished by that fact. Not that they ever would have that shiny future, as much as Chuck wanted it. The CIA was her life, and that meant he would never know who she was, or exactly what she was doing at any given time.

Someone tapped his shoulder. Turning his head, he felt Sarah straighten and saw Casey in a waiter's uniform holding a bottle of champagne and glasses on a platter.

"Another glass, sir?" he said, in a way that very clearly meant _What the hell are you two doing – get going!_ Chuck let go of Sarah.

"Yes please," he said quickly, grabbing a glass and pouring it for himself. Downing it in one gulp, he ignored Casey and Sarah's surprised and slightly reproachful looks.

"Chuck, watch it, okay?" Sarah said quietly.

"We're portraying a drunk couple going to make out, aren't we?" Chuck replied, unable to control the annoyance in his voice. "I'm method acting." He downed another glass before Casey took the bottle and left, grumbling something about nerds and fancy parties.

Sarah looked at him for a moment as if studying him, frowning a little. "Are you okay, Chuck? You can head home now if you're not feeling up to it."

"I'm fine," he snapped, feeling somewhat like a pouting child and wishing he'd had more than two glasses because he wasn't feeling buzzed at all.

Sarah eyed him for a minute more before nodding. "Okay. If you say so." The playful air around her broke as definitely as if it had been shattered glass. She was all professionalism now, barely looking at him. Chuck put the glass down on some table and thought that that suited him just fine. "Shall we?"

The switch was just as sudden and complete as the first time. Sarah looked at him through her eyelashes, her smile slow and unbelievably seductive. Chuck swallowed, torn – as usually – between desperately wanting to kiss her and wanting to run for the hills. She trailed her fingers up his chest and leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Come with me, Mr. Carmichael," she whispered hotly in his ear. His knees went suspiciously weak.

They made their way around the edge of the ballroom, fingers twined together, Sarah shooting him fleeting and unbelievably sexy glances from time to time. Oh what he wouldn't give for this not to be a lie.

Near one tall, arched doorway into a candle-lit hallway, Sarah turned to face him, startling him out of gazing at the open expanse of her back. She raised her eyebrows at his conflicted look. "Chuck, are you sure you're okay? Because I can find a way to do this on my own."

"I'm fine," he said, starting to walk ahead of her into the hallway. The candlelight flickered on the yellow walls.

"Pardon me, but I haven't had the pleasure of greeting you," said a voice from behind them. Chuck turned and barely contained the look of utter shock on his face.

It was Valentine. The tall, dark haired man was more handsome close up than Chuck had judged before, when he had seen him on the yacht, and he was fixing his megawatt smile completely on Sarah. She smiled back brilliantly, dropping Chuck's hand to hold hers out to Valentine.

"Sarah Walker, Mr. Valentine. And let me say what a fabulous party this is and happy birthday!" Chuck gritted out a "Happy birthday" but somehow he guessed that Valentine wasn't listening.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Walker," he said, bringing her hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. Chuck bit back the indignant noise in his throat.

Sarah blushed as her voice faltered. "Oh, we're not married." "This is my date, Charles Carmichael." She turned and smiled at Chuck, her gaze pointedly saying _Don't freak out._

"Mr. Carmichael, it's a pleasure." Valentine was noticeably less friendly when he greeted Chuck, who put on what he hoped was a confident, superior smile.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Valentine."

"Thank you, thank you," Valentine said with another smile aimed at Sarah. "Now, if I might ask, why were you two coming this way? Were you about to leave? Because I couldn't stand you two leaving my party so early. The night is young!" He didn't look at Chuck once as he said this, and his hand was still holding Sarah's. Chuck clenched his jaw.

"Oh, I was just trying to find the restroom," said Sarah, recovering neatly with a dazzling smile. Was it really necessary that she completely trap Valentine in her charm as well?

"There are three in this wing of the house," Valentine said with a small laugh. "If you'd like, I can show you where one is." His hand left hers, drifting up her bare arm to her shoulder, where he gently stroked his thumb back and forth.

"Oh, that won't be necessary. But thank you," she replied politely, the brilliant smile still on her face. For one weird moment, Chuck wished she wasn't as gorgeous as she was.

"Then, maybe you'd like a tour of the mansion?" His voice was low and suggestive, his eyes even more so. Sarah paused like she had been caught off guard – how could she have been caught off guard after the rest of their conversation?! – and blinked. She shot a glance at Chuck, who was silently fuming off to the side, but he couldn't read what the look meant. Was she asking for his _permission_ or something?

"I – " she started, but faltered. Something hot flooded Chuck's veins and he grabbed Sarah's hand, dragging her away from the rich birthday boy and down the hall.

"Sorry, nature calls," he yelled over his shoulder. When they rounded the corner, Sarah wrenched her hand out of his grip.

"What the hell was that?" she snapped, her eyes furious.

"I might ask you the same thing," he said angrily. "Did you have fun seducing Valentine back there?"

Her cheeks colored. "Seducing? I wasn't seducing him, I was trying to get him out of our way before I realized that it might be easier to use him to search the mansion instead of you because you were acting weird." She moved restlessly as she spoke, as if she couldn't hold herself still. "Also, 'nature calls'? What was that supposed to _mean_?"

"You know wha – nothing. And I told you I was fine!" Yelled Chuck.

"Keep your voice down!" she hissed angrily. "You may have just ruined our only chance to look around this mansion without drawing too much attention to ourselves." She sighed in resignation and raised her hands to run them through her hair before she remembered that she had a fancy hairdo and couldn't. They dropped to her side awkwardly. "I'll go get Casey and we'll figure something else out."

"If you hadn't drawn so much attention to yourself in the first place, none of that would have happened!"

She whirled to face him. "_What_? I was not drawing attention to myself," she said defensively.

"Yeah, you were! With your, you know," he waved his hand in her general direction. "And – and that dress, and your – you know what, never mind." He turned and walked down the hall, deeper into the mansion. "I'll just do this myself."

"Chuck, stop it." She grabbed his arm – hard. "You're going to go back to the ballroom, find Casey, and get out of here. I'll find Valentine, get a tour of the mansion and try to find out where the smallpox might be." He saw her swallow.

"Sarah, you know exactly what he meant by 'tour of the mansion' and it had nothing to do with 1920s architecture," Chuck replied. "And how are you going to know if something if important? You need me there to flash on things." Sarah was clenching her jaw tightly, but she didn't reply for a moment and Chuck knew he had won this round.

"You know, you're being uncharacteristically difficult tonight," she snapped. Chuck was surprised – usually she wasn't one for sniping remarks. "This is about saving the country and maybe even the world, remember? Union Station? Millions of people?" Her voice rose from a carefully controlled whisper to an angry yell. "What is _wrong_ with you tonight, Chuck?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it, at a loss for words. As shameful as it was to admit, he had completely forgotten about the smallpox. He'd forgotten all he had said the night before, when he'd been so convinced that they had to do anything and everything to save their country. Chuck wasn't particularly patriotic, but there was no way he would stand by if millions of people were going to get sick and die.

But Sarah had made him forget all of that. She was beautiful and charming and deadly had flirted with a handsome billionaire and he had gotten so jealous that nothing else had mattered in that moment. _Millions of lives_ hadn't mattered in that moment.

Chuck swallowed and Sarah raised a hand to her face, sighing. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Her voice was much quieter and more than a little regretful.

"No. You were right," he replied in clipped tones. "We're here. We should look around." He made himself look at the wall.

"Okay," she said slowly. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure." He walked down the hall and heard her follow him a beat later.

They didn't say anything as they walked quickly and quietly down the hall, going into each room and doing fairly random sweeps. Chuck didn't really expect to find much on the same floor of the house as the ballroom – if you're going to have smallpox in your house, they'd better be well protected – but he didn't want to argue with Sarah. In fact, he didn't really want to look at her that much either. Something was festering under his skin – jealousy, anger, frustration.

Sarah caught the skirt of her gown on a corner for the third time and sighed in frustration. Chuck stopped short and turned to her. "We're never going to find anything in here. No one in their right mind would keep smallpox unguarded!" he said.

She looked irritably at him. "We can't take on armed guards just the two of us anyway, Chuck. Right now we're just looking for clues about shipping schedules or…anything." She muttered something under her breath that Chuck didn't catch and headed for the door. "There's nothing here. Let's try the next room."

As she reached the doorway, Chuck right behind her, they heard voices in the hallway. Sarah whirled toward Chuck, a mildly frantic look in her eyes, grabbed the front of his tuxedo, and pulled him to her. Their lips slammed together as she pushed him up against a wall, her mouth opening to his and her hands holding the sides of his face in an iron grip.

The voices paused outside their doorway and then awkwardly continued, fading down the hall. Sarah pulled away slowly, meeting his eyes for an instant before looking away. She took a step back.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Chuck said in a heavy voice, looking back into the room to avoid her eyes. Then he saw something they had missed before. There, under a table in the library, was a small box. Brow furrowed, Chuck went to pick it up. There was a small piece of paper tied on top of the box, and all it said was '_Darkwind_'.

"Sarah," he said. "I think you should see this." Slowly, as she ran over, he untied the strong holding what looked like a small gift box. Pulling the top off, Chuck sincerely hoped that there wasn't a bomb or smallpox inside.

It was a key card. But as Chuck laid eyes on it, his vision blurred and suddenly he was looking at a heart-shaped candy box, a dozen long-stemmed roses, a hospital, a photograph of a man, a harbor full of ships, several confidential files and a golden retriever puppy.

Blinking out of it, Chuck handed the box to Sarah.

"What is it, Chuck?" she said. Chuck looked down at her and saw that she had on her ready-for-anything face on, her gaze intense and focused on him. "What did you see?"

He swallowed. "That key opens the door to the vault in the basement where the smallpox is being stored. There's an intense security system but no guards, because nobody was supposed to get their hands on this key."

"Why not? It was at a party full of people. Anyone might have stumbled in here."

"That's because the key was meant to be picked up here in this room while the party was going on. Nobody would notice one person slipping out of a crowded room."

"So…Darkwind is here. At this party." Sarah paused for a moment to take that in before hiking up the skirt of her gown – "What are you doing?!" Chuck yelped – to take two throwing knives off of the holder strapped to her thigh.

"Don't have your gun?" Asked Chuck sarcastically.

"No place to hide it," she said tersely, holding up her wrist to speak into her bracelet. "Casey, track us and get to our location right now. Darkwind is at the party."

"Hm. Pity. No one was supposed to know that."

Chuck jumped and whirled around. There, standing in the door, was the tall, brown-haired man from the photo in Chuck's flash. There was a scar running along his jaw that stood out white from his tanned skin. He was holding a gun and aiming it at Chuck's chest.

Darkwind.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I don't know if this was made clear in the first chapter, but this little series takes place _in between_ season 1 and season 2. Keep that in mind when you read the ending.

That being said, thank you SO MUCH to all the wonderful, wonderful support I got from everyone who reviewed this story. I never thought that many people would! Even the one person who said they hoped Chuck got shot. ;) Haha. Anyway, THANK YOU all. I really appreciate it. Also, there are a few shout-outs to Firefly in here, but I don't own Firefly so don't sue me. I just couldn't help myself! I'm not sure this is exactly the ending I wanted, but it's what came out, so here it is.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"Stay still and stay quiet, and this doesn't have to end badly. I suggest you drop those knives, agent." Darkwind spoke slowly and calmly, as if there was nothing in the world that troubled him. "I believe I heard you introduced as…Sarah Walker and Charles Carmichael?" He motioned with his gun. "Give me the key card. And don't make any stupid moves, Walker. I do have a gun pointed at his chest."

Chuck made some sort of noise that he was sure was in no way masculine and didn't move an inch. He knew the card was on the table in between him and Sarah, where she had put it down when she'd grabbed her knives. There was a soft _klink_ as Sarah put down her little daggers. So she was unarmed. And unable to do anything because they'd left the door open and hadn't watched their backs. He gritted his teeth in frustration. Yet again, he'd let his feelings for Sarah cloud his judgment.

"Give me the key card," Darkwind snapped, his eyes dark in the dim lighting of the room. He was still standing in the doorway – just out of sight from most of the hallway but not in a closed space with them. Chuck swallowed. He didn't see this ending positively in any way.

"You didn't want me making any stupid moves, right?" asked Sarah, her tone dangerous. "Why don't you come in and take it?"

"Just give me the damn key card, Walker," said Darkwind, his voice rising a little.

"I'm pretty sure that would qualify as a 'stupid' move," she replied blithely, smiling sarcastically. Chuck sent her a panicked look. What the hell was she doing?

Darkwind muttered something about the CIA angrily under his breath and cocked his gun. "I'm not playing, little girl. Give me the key card or I will blow a hole right through his chest."

Then Chuck remembered. Sarah had contacted Casey right as Darkwind had showed up. Casey was on his way right then, they just needed a little more time.

"Hey, hey," he started, "let's hold off on the shooting, okay? Darkwind, you know that if you take the smallpox to Union Station and drop it, _you_ will contract smallpox as well? There are only, like, seven vaccines in the United States and I'm pretty sure they're in heavily guarded labs."

The Fulcrum agent smiled darkly. "I've got connections. There's a vaccine reserved for me."

"You really think they're going to save one for you? If there are only seven left in the country, don't you think they'll be hording them for the people they really care about? They're probably not going to give you any at all, and do you really want smallpox?" Though the tone of his voice was panicked, Chuck thought the emphasis was clear.

Darkwind didn't say anything for a moment. Then, his stance seemed to harden again. "I'll take my chances."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a blurred mass of black came hurtling at Darkwind and tackled him to the ground. Chuck yelled in shock but Sarah didn't waste any time. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the room, grabbing the key card and her daggers on the way. Casey was wrestling Darkwind in the hallway. The Casey had definitely been unleashed, but Darkwind seemed to be holding his own. Chuck didn't have a lot of time to observe this, though, because Sarah was hauling him down the hall, towards what appeared to be the service elevators.

"Oh my God," he said as she pushed the button, gripping her knives and looking like she desperately wished she'd been able to hide a gun under her dress. "What are we going to do?"

"Hold this." She slapped the key card into his hands. "We can't let Darkwind get his hands on it," she said tensely, eyes trained on the two figures way down the hall who were currently pummeling each other against the wall. "You said the vault is in the basement?"

"Yeah."

"Then we are going to go down there, try to open it and get the smallpox out while Casey takes care of Darkwind." The elevator dinged and they scrambled in.

"What if Casey doesn't take care of Darkwind?" asked Chuck nervously.

"Then we have to get out of here and keep the card away from Darkwind at any cost."

"Okay. Okay. We can do that, right? No big deal. No big deal." Chuck wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. "Don't you want to take your heels off or something?"

She shot him an annoyed look. "If I do, my dress will be too long and I'll trip."

"Ah."

The elevator opened and they ran out, looking around. It looked like ancient European catacombs down here, but much cleaner. The architect here had obviously been going for a certain look of castle-like grandeur. Sarah whirled to face him, some of her elaborate up-do coming loose and falling around her face.

"Which way, Chuck?"

"Uh, this way." They ran down the hallway, which promptly forked into three different routes. The only lighting down here was flickering lamps that looked like they were in desperate need of maintenance. "T-This way, now." They ran down the left fork, side by side as Sarah tried to be the front and rear guard at the same time. Hallways and small rooms branched from the one they were on, and in the flickering light they seemed to come out of nowhere. "Jeez, did this guy specifically design this place to be as complicated as possible?"

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" asked Sarah. "You flashed on the route through the…basement or whatever this is?"

"Yeah! It's just – aha. Here we go. Go right here." They ducked down the narrow passage, and paused to catch their breath. Or, more specifically, Chuck requested a short break.

"We're going to do some endurance training when this is all over," Sarah said. "Now come on, we have to keep moving." But before they could move, there was a faint _ding_ and a metallic sliding noise. Sarah whirled to face the way they had come, knives gripped in white-knuckled hands. He heard her muttering something very quickly under her breath, the words _gun_ and _Casey_ and _stupid_ coming up a couple of times.

"Do you think that's Casey?" whispered Chuck, eyes wide.

She shook her head. "If it were Casey, he'd have either said something over our mics or he'd be yelling something right now because he took out Darkwind."

"So whoever just came out of the elevator…is most likely Darkwind." She nodded again, brow deeply furrowed. "Then what happened to Casey?" She didn't respond.

"I took care of your agent friend," called out a voice, echoing in the halls of the basement. "He was a tough one, but all government trained agents have too many weaknesses." Sarah whirled around, looking down both ends of the hallway they were on. With all the echoing, it was hard to tell from where Darkwind was speaking. He didn't know where they were down here, but they didn't know where he was either.

"We need to get to a more defensible position," hissed Sarah, motioning for him to follow her. Slowly, carefully, they crept down the dimly lit hall, trying to be as silent as possible. The next small room they came upon, they slipped into. Sarah pushed Chuck into the corner and stood in front of him, knives raised. Darkwind was still talking out there, but they couldn't hear him as clearly now.

"Sarah, what are we going to do? What if Casey is dead? We're basically trapped down here!" She turned and held her finger up to her lips.

"We're going to get out of this. I promised nothing would ever hurt you while I was around, and I meant it." She turned back around to face the door and Chuck stared somewhat sadly at the back of her head. It was amazing how something like life-threatening danger could make you see someone in a totally different light.

"Sarah?"

"What?" she hissed, not looking at him. When he didn't answer, she turned to look at him with her eyebrows raised. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Nevermind."

She made an aggravated noise in the back of her throat. "Then don't waste my time, Chuck. I'm trying not to get us killed."

"Hey," he whispered angrily. "don't pin this all on me! Just because you've stunted your emotions to the point of basically not having any, doesn't – "

"What are you _talking_ about?" she hissed in angry confusion. "And why the hell are you talking about this _now_?"

"Hey, we might be dead in a few minutes. Why the hell not?" The anger dropped off of her face.

"You're not going to die, Chuck. I promise. I'd give my life for yours."

He smiled at her sadly. "I know you would. You just wouldn't go on a date with me." She didn't say anything. "It's kind of funny, really."

He saw her throat move as she swallowed. "Chuck, I – "

There was a fairly quiet _bang_ as the grate on the air conditioning vent above their head dropped to the floor. Chuck gasped and Sarah threw a knife that barely missed Casey's head as he stuck it out the vent.

"Jesus. Some welcome, Walker." Slowly, he pulled himself out of the vent and silently fell to the floor. Sarah smiled sheepishly at him and Chuck let out a – quiet – yell and almost hugged the agent. Casey was sporting a black eye and was bleeding from the nose, but had that look in his eye like he could run a marathon. Provided there was some sort of fight-to-the-death at the end, anyway. "Here's a gun. So, what's the plan?"

"Thank God," whispered Sarah, catching it as he tossed it to her. "We need to get Chuck and the key card out of here as quickly as possible. We can't take any more risks." She shot Chuck a look that he couldn't decipher. "We need to make sure you're safe, Chuck, and that the key card is as far from Darkwind and the vault as possible."

"I called in backup right before I came to save your asses, so if we can get Chuck out, they should be able to take care of Darkwind," said Casey quickly and quietly.

"What if Valentine has an extra copy? I'm sure he does, he seems like the kind of person who would," Chuck said, failing at keeping the bitterness out of his voice. Sarah squeezed his arm.

"Damn. I hadn't thought of that. Should we try and get the smallpox out of here as well? Find the vault ourselves?" she asked Casey, still holding Chuck's arm. "Chuck flashed on the location of the vault and Darkwind doesn't know where it is. It's like a maze down here."

Casey thought it over for a moment, a muscle bulging in his jaw. "I don't think we can risk it. Let's just get Chuck out of here and then the SWAT team can deal with the smallpox. They'll have experts to deal with that." Suddenly a slightly panicked look appeared in his eyes. "Plus, what if they drop it or something? I'd personally like to be farther away from that disease while it's being transferred."

"What happened to diseases not being deadly weaponry?" Chuck teased. Casey shot him a dark look. "I think we should get it as far away from Darkwind as possible, as soon as possible. We can't leave not knowing if he could find some way to get his hands on it!"

Sarah and Casey looked at each other for a moment, having one of their super spy conversations that apparently didn't require words. After an intense moment they nodded.

"Let's get it, and then get the hell out of here," said Sarah quietly and vehemently.

Casey held up his gun with a savage grin. "I've got Jayne here, so we're all good." Chuck gave him a weird look.

"You name your guns? Never mind, that is _so_ not the issue right now." He ignored Casey's glare and kept talking. "Alright. The vault is…out the door, turn right, right again, then left for 123 feet and it's on the right."

"We grab the smallpox, keep on the lookout for Darkwind, get out of here as fast as we can without alerting anyone at the fancy party upstairs and then let the SWAT team deal with Darkwind," Casey said hastily, his fingers twitching in that weirdly familiar way that meant he wanted to shoot something – someone – and soon.

Sarah nodded tensely. "Alright. Let's go."

With Sarah in the lead, they crept out of the small room and into the flickering lights of the hallway, trying to stay as silent as possible. Chuck felt his heart thundering in his chest. For most of his life he'd had recurring nightmares of being hunted or chased in a maze, but he'd never actually expected to live out that particular nightmare.

Instead of panicking about the fact that they had no clue where Darkwind was – he could be around the next corner for crying out loud! – he stared at the back of Sarah's head, watching her hold her gun with such authority that he instantly felt a little safer. If anyone could save him from an evil Fulcrum agent in an underground labyrinth, it was Casey and Sarah. Chuck felt a wave of intense regret about the way he had acted that evening. What if they died right now and he never got to apologize or tell her…anything?

But he couldn't say anything. Swallowing his regret, he just studied her as she crept along the hallway, gun in front of her, looking around with extreme alertness.

When they reached a wide open crossroads of two hallways, they paused at the corner. Sarah and Casey had another one of their silent conversations before Casey went back to covering the rear with the gun called Jayne. Sarah slowly slipped forward and looked around the corner. She turned and nodded at them and then took one step into the hallway before something very strange happened.

She fell over.

Well, she didn't fall over. She…got shot. There was a huge bang and she yelled and was hurtled to the side as a bullet lodged itself somewhere in her body.

And that was it. Something snapped in Chuck then, as he watched her fall to the ground. She always protected him, and it was time for the tables to turn. The sight of Sarah on the ground, bleeding, even as Casey was yelling something and shooting around the corner, was unbearably painful. That was it. He was sick of it.

Chuck picked up the gun.

--

The first thing Sarah saw when she woke up was…Awesome. She blinked groggily and furrowed her brows. Then Awesome – _Devon_, she told herself – saw that her eyes were open and grinned.

"Hey there, Sarah. El, she's awake." Ellie Bartowski came hurtling into Sarah's range of vision, wearing her scrubs and an extremely relieved expression.

"Sarah! Oh, thank God you're awake. How are you feeling? Any pain? You'll be very sore for a while, but you're not in a great deal of pain, right?" Awesome laughed and touched Ellie's arm gently.

"Honey, give her some room to breathe. She did just wake up from having been shot." Ellie smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry. I'm usually more professional than this but hey, you're practically family. You'll have no lasting damage, by the way. The bullet grazed a kidney but they patched it up in surgery."

"What…what happened?" Sarah said slowly. Her side did burn, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She'd been shot one before, but that he been in her leg and this was in her torso.

"Shock will do that," said Awesome reassuringly. "Make you forget, I mean."

"It sounded awful!" said Ellie emphatically. "I mean, to get mugged leaving the restaurant after Chuck took you out to a fancy dinner – your beautiful dress is ruined, which is a tragedy in itself. But really, Sarah, you shouldn't try to fight off a mugger without any training! I mean, the guy had a gun and all he wanted was your purse and jewelry. It's not like you're trained in self-defense."

Sarah smiled to herself. "It was stupid," she said weakly before losing her smile. "Where's Chuck? Is he okay? Is he – "

"He's fine," said Ellie quickly. "Completely fine. Leave it to Chuck to let the girl defend him." She rolled her eyes. "He only just left, though. Took me an hour to convince him to leave the hospital, but he was starting to smell." Sarah nodded. "I'll let him know you're awake, though!"

"Thanks," Sarah said, her eyelids feeling terribly heavy. "I need to…"

"You need to sleep," said Ellie in her motherly way, rubbing Sarah's shoulder gently. "This is going to take time to heal so don't push yourself, okay?"

Sarah just hummed in response as her eyes fell closed and she drifted into a slightly drugged sleep.

--

It was sunset when Sarah next woke, and her hospital room was flooded with reddish orange light. She blinked and swallowed, wincing at the dryness in her throat. She must have made some sort of noise, because the large dark shape in the chair in the corner instantly reacted.

"Sarah? You're awake!" Chuck's relieved smile made something inside of her stretch almost to the breaking point. "Ellie told me you woke up earlier, but until I saw it for myself…God, I'm glad you're alright. Well, I mean, not _alright_ alright, but…okay." He pursed his lips. "Sorry. Shutting up. You did just come off your drugs, after all."

She swallowed and winced again. "Is there any water?" Her voice was rough.

"Oh, right, yes." He jumped to get her some, and then held the cup out to her uncertainly. "Do you need…I mean – "

"I can handle it," she said with a small smile, taking the cup and losing herself for a moment in how amazing water was. She heard Chuck laugh softly.

"Of course you can. You're Sarah Walker."

Slowly, Sarah lowered the cup and looked at him solemnly. He stared back at her, something in his eyes that she was ashamed to admit she couldn't read. Or, maybe she could. Maybe she could and she just didn't want to acknowledge it.

"So," she said to change to subject. "what happened after I got shot? I'm assuming that we got Darkwind and the…weapon." For a second she thought he winced, but then he was just smiling wryly and she assumed she imagined it.

He sat in the chair by her bed and propped his elbows on his knees. "Well, it was…interesting."

She arched one of her eyebrows sharply. "Define interesting."

"Um, I kind of picked up your gun."

She blinked and frowned. "Did you shoot it?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Now both of her eyebrows shot up. "Did you hit anyone?"

He shot her a weird look. "Of course not. I've never shot a gun in my life. But it distracted Darkwind enough for Casey to get a few shots in. He's alive and in an NSA detention facility." At that Sarah grumbled a little and Chuck smiled. "Then the SWAT team busted in like the cavalry in some old John Wayne western and I showed them where the vault was. After they'd put you in an ambulance, that is. They did their thing with the smallpox. Or, I assume they did because Casey grabbed me and dragged me out of the building and into a car." He laughed. "The man is suddenly a germaphobe."

Sarah smiled a little. "Well, I'm glad you didn't shoot anyone." If anyone deserved to be as far away from that life as possible, it was Chuck. And yet he'd been trapped in it for a long time now. Somehow he was handling it. The problem was that some small part of Sarah really didn't want him to be handling it. Or, more accurately, didn't want him to _have_ to be handling it.

Chuck laughed. "Like I could. Casey read me the riot act for doing that, even though it gave him the window he needed. Ah well. You can't have everything." He just looked at her then, a smile lingering on his mouth. His tan skin seemed even darker in the reddish light. And in that moment, even though she was hooked up to monitors and IVs and the pain in her side was beginning to throb again, Sarah felt strangely at peace. Chuck had that affect on her, usually when she least suspected it.

"I'm sorry," said Chuck, his expression earnest. "For earlier. At the party. I acted like a jackass."

Sarah could barely remember back that far. "It's fine, Chuck. It doesn't matter any more." Somehow that seemed to make matters worse.

"But it's _not_ okay. I was upset and…jealous, and I let it get in the way of the mission." Sarah thought vaguely to herself that that happened fairly often. "It was unprofessional and uncalled for, and if I hadn't acted like that then you might not have been shot." He was looking at her with the way he had, all conviction and guilt and heart. "So, I'm sorry."

"My getting shot wasn't your fault, Chuck," she replied, her voice soft but stern. "Don't ever think that. I made a mistake, and I paid the price. We're not supposed to make mistakes, and that's why."

Chuck just looked at her for a long time after that, and when she didn't offer any more he just sighed and looked down at his hands. "That's really what you think, isn't it." She couldn't tell why his voice sounded so…sad.

"Of course it is," she replied. "Why would I think any differently?"

He sighed again. "It's just…that's such an agent way to think about this whole thing."

"I _am_ an agent, Chuck," she said firmly. "First and foremost, I'm the agent keeping you safe."

"I know," he replied and looked up at her in the way again. "I just…am realizing more and more that this will never work."

Sarah blinked. "What?"

"You and me, once the Intersect gets taken out of my head. Or whatever. It's just…sometimes I think there's the possibility that we could be something and I want that. Like that moment under the dock, in the water, but not a little stolen moment." He looked down at his hands. "Sometimes I think it's possible for us to be together. I really, really want that, but it's never going to happen, is it?"

Pain lanced through Sarah's body that had nothing to do with the bullet wound in her side. Maybe it was her weakened body, but tears sprung to her eyes more suddenly than she would ever allow. What could she say to that? She _wanted_ to say that she wanted the same possibility. She wanted that whole normal life with Chuck – waking up and making coffee without having to worry about enemy agents or bugs or Casey. Having brunch on the weekends. Watching movies just because, not to prove a point. Going on dates where she didn't have to bring knives strapped to her ankle or a gun hidden somewhere on her body. She didn't want to have to go on dates where she spent all of her time either _pretending_ they were dating or scanning the room for any suspicious activity. If she was completely honest with herself, she wanted to wake up in the morning curled up next to him, warm and safe. She wanted to think that this was _right_ instead of constantly thinking that this was something she shouldn't do.

She swallowed. "No. I guess not." Her voice was soft and there was barely any backbone in it, because Sarah just couldn't command the willpower to make it any more convincing. Blinking furiously, she looked out the window into the sunset to avoid his crushed look.

"Right," he said. "That's what I thought." He stood and was about to leave when she called him back.

"Chuck." He turned and she swallowed her emotion. "I'm sorry. For…not protecting you last night like I should have."

He smiled a little and stood at the end of her bed. "Don't worry about it. I did okay. I'm not dead yet, right?" The smile he sent her was supposed to reassure her, but she just swallowed yet more unwanted emotion.

"I'll always be there to keep you safe," she said quietly, trying desperately to keep herself from crying. Her self-control seemed to have gone out the window.

For a moment Chuck just stood there and looked at her while she struggled within herself. Then he walked around the bed until he stood next to her, leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. She let her eyes close briefly.

"I know."

Sarah watched him leave, and some sort of weight lifted slightly off of her chest. The breath she took in didn't hurt quite as much. As the red faded from the sky, she let her eyes slip closed and drifted into sleep.


End file.
